Metal Head Queen 2: Feeding

The Queen's mouth and chest were dripping wet as she sauntered over to Ashelin. The redhead glared in pure hatred; the hybrid seemed utterly unconcerned, kneeling down next to her head and stroking one full breast.



Ashelin set her jaw. No way was she going to suck on this monster's tits.



"Are you sure?" the Queen cooed, running her fingers along the tops of the shapely mounds. "You're going to get fed... one way or the other. This way is less... intrusive. You should be a good girl and take it."



Ashelin only wished she could kill with a look. This Metal Head creature would have dropped stone dead.



"We-ll, suit yourself," the Queen answered in sing-song, displaying her usual flawless temperament towards the resistance of her charges. Her claws shredded the webbing that restrained her most feisty captive, each limb recaptured by a steely length of tentacle within half a second. Leisurely, the Metal Head toted the host of her children over to the same little formation she'd bent Keira over last night: a broad mound - like the leg of a couch - that spread legs wide; a ridge over which hips were bent; a deep trench where the belly hung unsupported; and a low support on the other end for the head and shoulders, lower than the ridge supporting the hips. With a captive's hands bound, the Queen could practically walk away, as her victim's own laden weight made it impossible for her to struggle off of the formation.



Strong tentacles pulled Ashelin's legs apart and spread her over the T-junction, then held her hands behind her back as the Queen did something she couldn't quite see. Feet hanging unsupported, little purchase for her thighs against the slick material, Ashelin found the weight of her belly bearing down wholly upon her crotch. Legs spread at a good 45' angle, her lips pressed half-open against the surface, nestling against cunning ridges built into the "seat."



She had little time to ponder this, though, as a familiar wet, warm substance was slathered onto her forearms, held crossed behind her back. Ashelin bitched and struggled, but she was held firm, and within half a minute the substance tightened and hardened like that which had bound them to the columns overnight. The Queen pushed Ashelin forwards, keeping a hold on those bound forearms so the elf didn't knock her jaw against the mound intended to support her shoulders and head. The weight of Ashelin's own belly hauled her down tight; she completely lacked the leverage to right herself, ass high in the air and the leading edge of her pelvis flush against the ridges she had noted earlier.



The Queen hummed in satisfaction, evidently taking her sweet time. Fingers stroked Ashelin's rear, her thighs, sensitive creases normally left untouched save by soft undergarments. Ashe was sensitized and paying keen attention by the time a finger slipped into her, meeting utterly no resistance from the slick flesh. The KG made no sound, teeth clenched in fury, but her internal muscles jumped around the digit.



In and out, slowly, as if there was all the time in the world. Despite everything, Ashelin found her skin flushing, nipples hardening, the seat between her legs growing slick as her muscles tensed in a silent plea for more pressure. The hybrid Queen's only response was to occasionally bury her finger to the hilt, watching in pleasure as her actions resulted in rippling tension along the woman's rump and strained back muscles. Then it was back to the same maddening pattern, until Ashelin was panting and the minute ridges beneath her clitoris were soaked.



She almost moaned when a hand pressed against her buttocks, completely baring her already-exposed ass. Something wet and moist started at her perineum, moved up to slide across puckered flesh. It was only when Ashelin felt a breath that she realized it was the Queen's tongue. With her finger still moving in and out, the hybrid lapped at the KG's back entrance, smirking as it tensed and her captive's breath became more labored. Finally the tip pressed into her, and after a second of tension the rim of muscle relaxed completely - accompanied by the rewarding sound of Ashelin moaning quietly.



The Queen's tongue was broad, strong and almost impossibly long. It probed Ashelin's insides fearlessly; their bodies would soon be things of her making, and she would dominate them inside and out. This was merely the start.



Finally the sovereign leaned back and withdrew her finger. Ashelin was tense, quivering with the strain of making no noise, of refusing to plead for more with the silent language of her body. Unseen by the KG, the dusky creature tilted her hips and stroked her labia, smiling to herself as a blush rose on her cheeks and her nipples hardened. After a half minute of masturbation (to Ashelin it felt like an hour), the Queen bared her teeth and gave a sensual, full-bodied shudder; moist and glistening, her phallus slipped out. She licked her lips and milked it slowly, eying Ashelin's exposed flesh like a delicious feast.



Wasting little more time, the hybrid inched up behind her captive, straddling the broad seat herself. Strong tentacles supported her weight on either side, reaching the floor; her movement was unhampered, suspended by her own appendages, though her legs were spread just as wide. Fingers dug into Ashelin's buttocks, spreading and tilting her hips just a little more; with a smirk that showed a disconcerting number of sharp teeth, the Queen lined herself up for penetration, tip finding precisely the right spot.



But not yet. A length snaked around the Queen's side from the elegant case on her back; it shone with moisture. Smoothly it positioned itself at puckered flesh, ready to explore Ashelin's nether regions.



Then she thrust forward. Ashelin gasped and let out a bitten-off moan despite herself, feeling thick penetration in two places at once. The Queen moved smoothly, without hurry, sliding herself in until her plush hipbones were nestled against her captive's ass. Licking her lips, she nestled her thighs and knees in behind Ashelin's, pinning her legs; the hands on her ass tightened, grinding her pelvis against the ridged seat as the Queen leaned her weight on her arms and tilted her hips back.



When those hips plunged forward again Ashelin couldn't possibly stay quiet. The Queen's phallus was long and flexible; every inch Ashelin had to give, it took, and pushed for more. The strong movements jarred her hips against the solid barrier between her legs - every thrust rubbed her clitoris against those little ridges. The length up her ass simply kept going; it filled her up, then searched for the next turning inside and kept going. The KG moaned and tensed as she felt it moving up behind her full uterus, behind the eggs, pushing her laden belly even further outward and probing steadily deeper. Finally she felt her stomach bulge, above where she carried those eggs; if she could have looked down, she would have seen herself fill out from hips to ribcage, a distinct mound marking her foreign occupants and an irregular one showing her intrepid explorer.



The Queen hissed, rhythm changing slightly. Her phallus seemed to grow larger, stretching her entrance tight and leaving room for little movement even as the hybrid buried herself deep and kept thrusting, hands now latched on to Ashelin's hipbones. The tentacle had stopped pushing deeper but now it rippled along its entire length, leaving the elf gasping at the places it touched. It slowly withdrew, but Ashelin spared little attention as she felt a warmth begin to flood her channel, deep next to the eggs. Just as with Tess, the Queen thrust until the liquid found passage, where it began to fill in the places between her nascent occupants. Ashelin felt her stomach growing heavier, straining against her back; despite the pleasure and the burning heat between her legs, she struggled, trying to relieve the weight. The Queen just gave her an extra thrust, deliberately grinding Ashelin down against the ridges.



The liquid delivered to her womb seemed to take the space left by the retreating length in her gut. But it did not retreat all the way, leaving a good few feed lodged inside when it rippled and bulged slightly. Ashelin felt that warm bursting liquid sensation again, this time deep in her low stomach. Even as one chamber swelled, twisting passages were filled as well. Soon her upper stomach was heavy again, leaving Ashelin feeling quite full.



The constant grinding of her clitoris against those ridges was taking its toll, even with her belly swollen to foreign secretions, even with her back aching under the increasing weight. Her inner thighs ached and tingled; her nipples were prominent, sensitive where they brushed occasionally against the side of the headrest; her hips began to rock in tandem, searching for just a little more friction, sliding her nub against those well-crafted bumps.



With a leer, the Queen thrust suddenly deep with inhuman strength. A sudden rush of fluid filled her to the brim, pussy bulging against the internal pressure and the shaft plugging it tight. The move pressed deep against everything Ashelin had; she screamed and writhed, body jerking to a hard and involuntary climax. But the liquid didn't spill out; the Queen kept her sealed up, and Ashelin's contractions against the unyielding pressure inside only made her wail and jerk her hips harder.



Finally the KG gasped for breath, stray tendrils of hair damp and plastered to her skin. The Queen pulled the tentacle out; Ashelin felt terribly full. But the phallus stayed, only withdrawing after a few very careful thrusts, slowly withdrawing to the sensation of increased pressure; she could have sworn it was pumping yet more into her, but something thick that clung to the narrowed entrance by her pelvic bone.



Finally the tip left, and Ashelin expected the pressure to ease and liquid to flood out between her thighs. It didn't; she remained as full as ever, and squirmed uncomfortably.



The Queen chuckled. "I have to be certain it stays where I put it, dear." Fingers stroked Ashelin's sensitive folds, her entrance; she felt herself still stretched wide, around something firm and hardening, a thick secretion plugging her like half-melted wax. She tensed, hoping to push it out, but her only reward was a blinding rush of sensation as the plug, molded to her curves, jutted against her G-spot.



The liquid in her swollen digestive system would stay through virtue of gravity alone; she couldn't hope to do anything about it in this position. She was going to stay like this until her body absorbed the foul stuff, or the Queen let her down.